CHAPTER 8:THE SCAR
622 Words
The car was silent.
But it wasn’t the same silence as yesterday.
Yesterday, Taewook’s silence meant _I don’t trust you_.
Tonight, it meant _I’m thinking_.
We pulled up to the penthouse. 9PM.
Taewook got out first. Held the door for me. No hand on my back this time. Just respect.
“Joon,” he said. “Send the recording to Legal. Have them draft Jihye’s immunity deal. 8AM.”
“Yes, CEO Kang.”
We rode the elevator up. Alone.
He leaned against the glass wall. Watching the city. Watching me.
“You threw coffee on him,” he said finally.
“I panicked,” I lied.
He smirked. “You didn’t panic. You aimed for his eyes.”
I didn’t answer. Because he was right.
The elevator dinged. Penthouse.
Door open, like always.
Taewook kicked off his shoes and walked to the bar. Poured 2 glasses of whiskey.
He handed me one.
“You drink?” he asked.
“In my past life? Too much,” I said. I took a sip. Burned. Good.
He laughed. Actually laughed. Low. Real.
“You’re not 19, Soyeon,” he said. He sat on the couch. Patted the seat next to him.
I sat. 1 cushion of space between us.
“Minho thinks I’m crazy,” I said. “Jihye thinks I’m weak. The Chairman thinks I’m a gold-digger.”
“And what do you think you are?” Taewook asked.
I looked at him. Really looked.
“I think I’m the mistake all of them are going to regret.”
His eyes darkened. Not with anger. With something else.
He set his glass down. Then mine.
“Soyeon,” he said. “Why did you burn the dress?”
My breath caught.
He remembered.
“Because,” I said, voice quiet. “The girl who wore it died. I buried her.”
Taewook was quiet for a long time. Then he reached out.
Not to touch me. He picked up my hand. Turned it over.
My wrist. The scar from the bullet was still there. Faint. 5 years old.
His thumb brushed over it. Once.
“I believe you,” he said. “Not because of crypto. Not because of the boardroom. Because of this.”
He let go. Stood up.
“Get some sleep. Tomorrow is worse.”
He walked to his room. Door open.
I stayed on the couch. Holding my wrist.
*2:47 AM.*
My new phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
_Jihye: Soyeon please. I’m sorry. He forced me. He said he’d hurt my brother if I didn’t sign the papers. Meet me. Please. 3AM. Han River Bridge. Alone. Or he dies._
My blood went cold.
I sat up.
Taewook was already standing in the doorway of his room. Arms crossed. Like he’d been waiting.
“You saw it too?” he asked.
“How did you—”
“I put a tracker on your new phone,” he said flatly. “For safety. Clause 2, remember?”
He walked to me. Handed me a jacket.
“We’re going,” he said. “But you’re not going alone. And you’re not going unarmed.”
He pulled out a small blade. Flat. Slid it into my jacket pocket.
“If he touches you,” Taewook said, voice deadly calm. “You don’t run. You don’t scream. You stab.”
I stared at him.
“Why are you doing this for me?”
He was quiet. Then:
“Because 5 years ago, no one stood between me and them. Tonight, I will.”
He put on his coat.
“Let’s go, partner.”
The city was empty. Dark.
But for the first time since I died… I wasn’t scared to walk into it.
- Writer
